Losing You
by storm173
Summary: Set in January 1925. A tragic accident disturbs life at Downton. Season 5 spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**I have no idea where this came from, but it has been on my mind for about three months so I decided to just write it. Originally I planned it as a one-shot, but it got too long for that so I thought why not cut it in three parts? It does follow the wonderful proposal from the CS now, but actually was supposed to head to one. So I came up with something else. Be warned, there's angst ahead and a lack of realism too, I think. Hope you enjoy anyway :)_  
><em>**

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><p><em>January 1925 <em>

Thomas stepped out of the post office and shivered in the cold winter air. Heavy snowing had troubled the village the past week, most paths were slippery and it was a challenge to use them. The under butler had even thought of cancelling his half-day since there was no point in trying to get into the village, but being in need of this and that and in particular of new stamps he had decided to go. In fact it hadn't been that difficult to reach the village. The ice had been covered by another layer of snow in the morning so the danger of slipping had been reduced a little. Nonetheless, Thomas wanted to get back to the warmth of the big house.

By the time he walked past the station, he could barely feel his nose anymore and quickened his pace as much as he dared. He saw a train nearing the station, but didn't pay much attention to it until a horrible creaking and groaning emerged from the engine that spread over the train's wheels and seemed to come from the brakes fierce grip on them. Thomas winced and felt a need to cover his ears when he heard it. He stopped and stared at the train which instead of slower seemed to get faster. A deep grumble thundered from beneath the carriages and the earth around the railways started shaking, making the train loose contact with its connection to the ground. It started to loose balance. Thomas' eyes grew wide when the train tipped to the right and while it ran off the rails crashed into the station, bursting the platform. It finally came to a stop, being held by the remains of the building. The carriages that were still on the railways moaned under the pressure and while tipping over crashed into each other. There was a moment of silence. Then the boiler exploded. The blast sent everything in its reach flying and knocked Thomas over who fell backwards onto the road. In shock he sat up, watching how deadly flames fed on the station. His ears were ringing from the explosion, but after a matter of seconds he was able to hear the screams. Thomas got up with a sharp intake of breath. His backside was bruised. Having difficulty to look away from the horror before him, his gaze went up the road to the hospital. He could see how Dr. Clarkson stormed out. He was too far away to make out his expression, but it didn't take long until he turned back to the hospital and shouted something. He seemed to have gotten an immediate response, because Thomas was sure he saw him nod before he ran towards the station. The doctor stopped when he recognized the under butler. "Thomas! Are you hurt?", Dr. Clarkson asked. Thomas shook his head. "Good, run to the Abbey and get help. I need men who help to carry the wounded to the hospital and extra hands for the nurses, do you understand?"

Thomas stared at him. While Dr. Clarkson's mind worked fast due to experience, Thomas had trouble to wake from his state of paralysing shock.

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Thomas? I need you to get help from the Abbey. The phone doesn't work. You have to tell them what happened!"

Finally, Thomas was back in control of himself. "I'll get help!", he shouted while he turned to ran towards the Abbey, oblivious to the facts that he had lost his hat and ripped his clothes, his bruised back forgotten. He slipped and fell more than once while he sprinted down the path to the big house.

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><p>Carson was serving tea to the Earl in the library when the ringing of the fire bell of the Downton fire brigade reached his ear. With a frown he stepped to the window, almost dropping the cup when he spotted the huge, dark grey cloud of smoke rising from where he knew the village was. "Milord", he addressed his employer. "I believe you should see this."<p>

Lord Grantham got up with a questioning look. He joined his butler at the window. "My god", he said. "Something must have caught fire."

Carson had no chance to answer for the door swung open with a bang and a breathless and messy Thomas stumbled inside. "What's the meaning of this?", Carson scolded him, but then saw that the man's clothes were ripped and he seemed to be hurt.

"There was an accident, Mr. Carson. They need help!", Thomas shouted, panting for air.

"What accident?", the Earl asked.

"A train - it must have been the ice – it crashed into the station and there was an explosion. Dr. Clarkson needs help. There are so many wounded. We must hurry!"

A moment of shocked silence followed Thomas hasty report. Then the Earl turned towards Carson. "Go downstairs. I need the male servants to go the station as fast as they can. Using the cars would only slow us down. Any of the others who has the slightest experience in nursing shall head for the hospital. Thomas, you come with me. We meet in the village, Carson."

"Yes, milord", Carson answered. They parted in the hall. Carson was quick to gather the servants. There was no time for long explanations or putting on more than their coats, before they hurried out of the servant's entrance and made their way to the village. While they were rushing down the path his eyes were searching the group for Mrs. Hughes. Although it took most of his concentration not to slip he realised that she wasn't with them. Considering the time, she might have been on her rounds and would be informed about what had happened by the few maids Carson had ordered to stay at the house.

When they reached the station, Carson stopped dead in his tracks. He had never seen what he saw now. The station lay in ruins, the train awkwardly pressed into it. Flames rose from what used to be the ticket office and refused to be put out by the firemen. Villagers were freeing the passengers from the carriages. Everywhere around the place of accident people were lying in the snow.

The Earl spotted his staff and hurried to them to give directions. "Carry the people to the hospital. That's all Dr. Clarkson needs us to do right now."

Carson was left standing alone in a matter of seconds. Despite having been told what to do, he didn't seem to know how to do it.

"Mr. Carson!", a familiar voice called out for him. He turned to see Anna running towards him. She slipped when she had almost reached him and he was quick to catch her. Only when she stood safely he saw the panic on her face.

"What is it?", he asked.

"It's Mrs. Hughes", Anna shouted. "She wanted to catch the one o'clock train to York. Mr. Carson!"

Carson was sure he couldn't be hearing this right. She had told him nothing about that. "Are you sure?" His voice was barely a whisper, while he started to feel incredibly sick and all colour left his face.

"I'm sure! I talked to her when she was about to leave!" Anna was close to screaming. She had a feeling that her words hadn't gotten through yet. "You must find her!"

Carson turned to the chaos. This couldn't be. Not her.

"Mr. Carson!"

A deep breath of cold air finally cleared his head and all the trouble of understanding the situation was gone. Without another word he stormed forwards. He had to find her. It couldn't end like this. Not now that they were engaged. _I'll find you._

He was at a loss where to start. She could be anywhere. _Think Charlie_, he told himself. Where would she be if she had been on the platform? His eyes wandered to the spot where he knew she usually waited for a train. He took calm breaths to stop himself from throwing up. The train had hit that exact spot. If she had been there, she would be trapped under ruins or worse, she had been crushed by one of the carriages if the explosion had not killed her. He fought these thoughts, but they were likely to be the cruel reality.

"Over here, Mr. Carson!" It was Thomas who had called out for him. Carson fought his way past the wreckage to the other side of the station. On the snow covered meadow another few dozen people were lying. Thomas was kneeling next to someone. A fireman stood close to Carson. "Those were standing on the second platform when it happened. The blast threw them over here", he explained. Carson had heard the man, but didn't pay much attention to it. Even though Thomas was covering most parts of the person, Carson knew here by the dark green coat. It was her favourite. He dropped on his knees beside the under butler. "It's Mrs. Hughes", Thomas said. Carson removed his coat and put it around her. He didn't dare to take a closer look. The glimpse of blood soaking the snow beside her was enough to make him want to scream. Carefully he picked her up, making sure her head rested against his shoulder. Leaving Thomas, Carson made his way to the hospital as fast as possible. She was cold, pale, but he could see that her chest was still rising and falling, even if only very weakly. She was still alive.

"Don't leave me now", he whispered. They still had an engagement to announce, a cottage to take care of, a wedding to plan and a retirement to spend together. "I won't let you go."

The hospital was overcrowded. The second chaos Carson faced that day. Lady Edith spotted him and recognised whom he was carrying. Somehow she managed to find a bed where Carson placed Mrs. Hughes carefully. Mrs. Crawley was suddenly there, freeing Mrs. Hughes of his coat and checking her for injuries. "Fetch Dr. Clarkson", she told Lady Edith. Again Carson didn't know how the young woman managed, but she returned with the doctor. He examined Mrs. Hughes quickly. "The right collarbone is broken. One rib on the same side and two on the left are partially fractured. The right leg is twisted. We must operate. There are splinters causing internal bleedings." Mrs. Crawley quickly wrote down what Dr. Clarkson said and hurried to find the doctor what he needed.

"What is there I can do to help?", Carson asked. He was forcing himself not to think about all the injuries she had and the pain she was in.

"I need you to help get the wounded here, Carson. There is nothing more you can do for her now."

"But…"

"Carson, these people are all severely injured and won't stand a chance if we leave them lying in the cold. They must be brought here if we intend to save most of them."

"Understood", Carson replied. "But she will get through?"

"I don't know. I'll do what I can. And so should you!"

Carson took one last look at her before he forced himself to do as Dr. Clarkson had asked. If Mrs. Hughes had been awake, she would have told him the same of that he was sure. She was always the one who helped and now it was his turn to do just that.

TBC

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><p><strong>Please let me know what you think. :)<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for your amazing reviews! I'm blown away by your support. :)**

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><p>It took them until sunset to carry the wounded to the hospital which now looked much like it had during the war, with countless beds filling the rooms. Dr. Clarkson had operated dozens of patients and finally help arrived from York. More nurses, doctors and medical supplies. Those who had helped were gathered in the courtyard where Mrs. Crawley made sure they got some hot soup and tea. Mrs. Patmore had immediately volunteered to prepare the worn out men and women supper. The firemen had lit some torches between the tables and benches. Usually all that was used for fairs and village dances. Carson sat with the other servants who hungrily spooned the soup and took huge gulps of tea in a desperate attempt to get a little warmer. He couldn't get himself to eat something. Since he had left Mrs. Hughes with Dr. Clarkson he had neither had any news nor the chance to see her.<p>

Mrs. Patmore suddenly stood next to him. "Eat, Mr. Carson. You'll feel a little more yourself afterwards."

"But…"

"I know you want to see her", she said quietly. "Be patient and trust that she is taken care of."

"You don't understand. We…"

"I know, Mr. Carson. I'm not blind." She took his spoon and held it to him. "She would ask you the same thing and feed you if necessary."

The cook was right. If Mrs. Hughes were with them, she would go as far as feed him. The image did force a small smile to appear in his face, but it quickly faded. Mrs. Hughes was hurt and alone inside that building and he should not be out here, but with her. He forced himself to accept the spoon and empty his plate with it. Indeed, he felt a little more himself. The warmth did his frozen limbs well. He looked at up at Mrs. Patmore. "I'll go to see her now."

She nodded and made room for him to get off the bench. He made his way quickly to the building's entrance. Dr. Clarkson just stepped outside, his sleeves rolled up and a look of utter exhaustion on his face. When Carson wanted to get past him, the doctor stopped him by grabbing his arm. "You can't go inside."

"Why not?", Carson asked confused.

"At the moment we can only allow relatives to see them. We somehow have to control the amount of chaos."

"Fine", Carson grumbled. "Then at least tell me how she is."

"Carson, I'm sorry, but I've had way too many patients to remember. Besides, I wouldn't be allowed to tell you."

"Excuse me?"

"You are not related. Wait until tomorrow, then I might be able to…"

"Listen!", Carson grumbled, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"You heard him, Carson", the Earl said calmly. "I understand that you worry about her, but she is in very capable hands."

"No, you don't understand, milord", Carson replied angrily.

"Carson, it's enough", Lord Grantham warned him.

"But…"

"I'm sure you can visit her as soon as we have moved some of the patients to Ripon and Thirsk", Dr. Clarkson told him, oblivious to the fact how tense and angry Carson had gotten throughout the conversation.

"You two will listen to me now!", Carson bellowed, not caring that he was addressing the Earl and getting almost everyone's attention now. "Mrs. Hughes and I are engaged, so I believe I have every right to go through that door."

Lord Grantham's jaw dropped while Dr. Clarkson let go of the butler's arm in surprise. Carson ignored the two men and entered the building. He remembered exactly where Mrs. Hughes lay. He hurried towards the far end of the room.

"Carson, wait!", Dr. Clarkson called out for him, but Carson was determined to reach his fiancée's bed. And so he did. The blanket covered her all the way up to her chin. She was as pale as she had been when he had carried her to the hospital. Her arms lay on top of the blanket on each side of her body. Carson gently took her left hand in his and was shocked to feel how cold it was. He covered it with both of his large paws in hopes of getting it warm. "How is she?", Carson asked, his voice shaking slightly.

Dr. Clarkson checked a card that was fixed to one of the bedposts. He read it and sighed. "Not too well, I'm afraid. The blast forced several splinters to enter her body and I can't be sure I was able to remove them all. She lost a lot of blood and might still bleed inside. And then there are the broken bones. All we can do now is waiting for her to wake up."

"But she will wake up?" When Dr. Clarkson didn't answer panic gripped Carson. "Will she wake up?", he whispered, fighting tears.

The doctor sighed. "I don't know. She may get through, but I think you ought to prepare for the worst."

Carson shook his head. This couldn't be. He couldn't lose her to a tragic accident. She deserved better. To die of old age in her own home as Mrs. Carson. Her life was far from over with all the things left to do. All the things he needed her to know. If this was god or fate punishing him for taking so long to heal and repay her kindness and affection than it wasn't fair. He should be lying there. He was the old fool who hadn't understood and certainly not listened to his own heart.

"I'm sorry, Carson", Dr. Clarkson said and left them.

Carson sank down on the bed beside her, not once taking his eyes of her face. He held her hand to his chest where his heart was beating. "I need you to know that I love you, Elsie Hughes", he whispered. "If you can hear me, please try to wake up. Please…" He closed his eyes and pressed his lips tightly together to stop himself from sobbing. He lost track of time while he sat beside Mrs. Hughes, holding her hand and watching over her. The tears had dried. Carson felt too empty to cry more. Only now he realised that he was the only visitor left. He didn't know why they let him stay, but he was grateful that they did. The door was opened and familiar steps came towards him. "Why did she not tell me she wanted to go to York? I would have talked her out of it. I wouldn't have let her go. I would have told her the risk to end up in a snowstorm was too big. Anything…"

"She didn't tell you, because she planned a surprise for you and didn't want to give anything away. Besides, I'm sure she knew you would try to stop her", Mrs. Patmore answered, the sound of her voice proof for the tears Carson couldn't see with his back turned to her.

"It's my fault."

"It was an accident, Mr. Carson. You know that it was. Don't blame yourself. She wouldn't want that", Mrs. Patmore told him.

He hadn't the strength in him not to blame himself, to suffer less. The only thing he was capable of was being at her side and not leaving it. "I'll stay the night."

"All right", Mrs. Patmore answered gently and patted his shoulder before she left them. He knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake all night and surely couldn't fall asleep on the bed. Carson found himself a chair and tried to get a little comfortable. He sat close to Mrs. Hughes, letting their joined hands rest in his lap.

The sound of voices, steps and beds being moved woke him in the morning. His neck hurt before he even moved it and when he sat up straight his back cracked. It took a moment until his eyes worked properly and the first sight they caught was Mrs. Hughes. He had hoped to see that she was awake or at least more conscious than when he had fallen asleep, but she was still the same. Only her hand that had spent the night wrapped up in his was now warm. Looking around he saw that some patients were already able to leave while others were prepared to be moved to another hospital.

Dr. Clarkson was about to start his rounds, checking on Mrs. Hughes first. Carson looked out of the window while the doctor inspected the stitches he had made yesterday. "Those are fine, but I still don't know why she won't wake", he told Carson.

"Have you missed anything perhaps?", Carson asked.

"That's always a possibility. I'll check on her this afternoon to see if I can find anything else."

And with that Carson was alone with her again. A nurse brought him a tray with a small breakfast. He watched how the nurse lifted Mrs. Hughes's head and let a few drops of water dampen her lips. There was no way they could get food inside her. It dawned on Carson that with no food and far too little water Mrs. Hughes would lose more and more of her remaining strength. How was she to get better like that? He had a long discussion with the nurse who refused to feed Mrs. Hughes soup or porridge and in the end Carson saw reason. Mrs. Hughes couldn't swallow so forcing her to eat would be no help. His only hope was that she woke up. And that was something he had no influence on.

He sat there all day, praying for a miracle, but nothing changed. When Dr. Clarkson got Mrs. Hughes for further treatment, Carson took the opportunity to get fresh air. He sank against the cold stone wall of the hospital, trying to control his emotions.

"Carson?"

His eyes shot open, but he didn't bother to spring to attention in any way. After all, it was Lady Mary and he had more important duties than those of a butler to attend to at the moment.

"How is she?"

"Not any better", he replied weakly.

"And how are you?"

It took him a moment to decide what to say. In the end he went with the simplest answer. "Not good."

"I won't keep you from her, but please consider getting some proper rest, Carson. Would you do that?", Lady Mary pleaded.

"When she's better", he replied. Lady Mary gave him a pained look filled with worry. "If you need help, you know where to find me."

"Thank you, milady."

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><p>Mrs. Hughes was returned to her bed late in the afternoon. Carson jumped off of his chair when they finally carried her back. Dr. Clarkson was with them. "Why did that take so long?", Carson asked worriedly.<p>

"I checked for more splinters and found one. It was difficult to remove it, but I managed. I hope it was the reason why she didn't wake. Now we must wait and see", Dr. Clarkson explained.

Carson nodded. Dr. Clarkson sounded more hopeful than he had the day before. But still Mrs. Hughes's condition did not improve until late in the evening. Carson was dozing off when he felt how Mrs. Hughes' hand squeezed his just so that he could feel it. His eyes shot open. "Mrs. Hughes?"

She moved her head in his direction , but didn't open her eyes. "Can you hear me?", he asked. He could see that she fought to move her eyelids. He put his other hand on her cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. "Don't! You need rest. You don't have to worry about anything."

He let out a shuddering breath of relief at the sight of her responding to his voice and moving. She pressed her cheek against his palm and he didn't remove it until she had fallen asleep. Even then he let it linger there and moved to press a feather light kiss to her forehead. Soon he dozed off, spending another night in a chair.

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><p>When Mrs. Hughes woke she felt weak. There was a sharp pain when she moved her head to the right and it took a good few minutes until she was able to open her eyes fully and get used to the dim morning light. She wasn't surprised to recognise the hospital. She remembered the accident quite clearly. Her memories only ended with the sound of the explosion. What was surprising to her was that she was still alive. That and the warm hands of the butler holding hers and resting in his lap. <em>Of course he is here<em>, she thought then, feeling stupid to have forgotten that they were engaged. But with the knock to the head she surely had suffered it didn't seem too strange to have forgotten.

Carson stirred and sighed as he woke up. His neck and back wore even worse than the day before, but the pain faded as soon as he saw blue eyes looking up at him. "Hello", he greeted her almost shyly, suddenly aware that this was the most intimate situation they had found themselves in since his proposal. They had held hands before, of course, but now it was quite different, owning a house together and being engaged.

"Hello", she replied hoarsely.

He beamed at the sound of her voice. "How are you feeling?"

It hurt a little to speak, but it was manageable. "Like I have been run over by a train."

"You remember it then?", he asked concerned.

"Parts", she answered. "Might I have some water, please?"

"Of course." He let go of her hand and got up. "I'll be back in a minute", he promised, hurrying to one of the nurses to get a breakfast tray. When he returned, he set it on the window sledge since there was no table. He poured a glass of water and hesitating shortly he moved one hand under her head to help her raise it to drink.

She was grateful for his help and felt a little more herself when the liquid found its way down her throat. "Thank you", she whispered, the hoarseness weaker than before.

"Do you feel like eating anything? The porridge is not as good as Mrs. Patmore's, but better than nothing", he offered.

"I'm not hungry", she told him. "Maybe later."

He accepted her decision and settled back in the chair.

"Can I ask you something?", she said after a while.

"Of course", he encouraged her and patiently waited for her to continue.

"How many nights have you spent in that chair?" Her voice was full of concern and it almost broke his heart. She was the one wounded and in need of being taken care of, yet she found it in her to worry about him.

"Two nights, since the day of the accident", he answered honestly. "I haven't left the hospital since then."

"But surely you were needed at the house and…"

"Mrs. Hughes", he interrupted her, swallowing hard. "I thought I was losing you. I was terrified that you would die, I… I still am. How could I have possibly left you?"

Mrs. Hughes didn't know what to say to that. There was so much pain in his eyes and he was being so honest. She reached for his hand and held it tight. "You're not losing me", she told him. "Not if I have a say in it."

He managed a smile and took comfort from the strength sparkling in her eyes.

The pair was looking so lovingly at the other that Dr. Clarkson felt a little guilty when he interrupted them. "The nurse told me you were awake, Mrs. Hughes", he said. "I'd like to talk to you and proceed with the treatments."

Carson and Mrs. Hughes exchanged a few glances, communicating without having to say a word. With the reassurance that she was all right if he left for an hour to get changed, he let her in Dr. Clarkson's care for the moment.

It felt good to breathe fresh air and have a walk. It cleared Carson's mind. He felt better knowing that she was awake. And he even held the promise he had given Lady Mary. He hadn't thought he would be able to when he had promised to return to the Abbey when Mrs. Hughes was better.

He got upstairs without being noticed. He was quick to have a wash and changed into his grey suit, the one he had worn at the beach. Feeling guilty about not letting the staff know how Mrs. Hughes was he popped into the kitchen and briefly informed Mrs. Patmore of the good news. In return she assured him everything was under control and that Thomas was doing a good job, although Lord Grantham didn't like it very much. Carson thanked her for the short report and decided to go upstairs in hopes of catching Thomas to give him further instructions and thank him for what he had done. After all, he had found Mrs. Hughes and afterwards taken care of the Abbey. In the great hall he didn't meet Thomas, but Lord Grantham who just came out of the library. "Carson, I didn't think I would see you here." The Earl sounded rather angry. "I never thought I would say that, but if Lady Grantham and my daughters weren't on your side I would have a very hard time not sacking you. You of all people should know that it is unacceptable to stay away from your post without permission."

"I do know that, milord, but I'm afraid the circumstances are asking for a change of rules and routine, wouldn't you agree?", Carson replied coldly.

"I won't say I don't understand your concern for Mrs. Hughes. After all you've been working together for almost three decades and no doubt have become friends. Nonetheless, I do have to ask you this: Was it really necessary to lie about an engagement in front of the entire village? I always thought you were a master of self-control."

Carson never thought he would be so angry with his employer, a man he respected, but in that moment it took all his self-control not to punch him. "It wasn't a lie. Mrs. Hughes and I are engaged to be married, we have been since Christmas. You of all people should know that I do not lie, certainly not in such a situation. I've been your butler long enough for you to know that. I'm sorry if you find my behaviour unacceptable, but in return I'd like to say that I find yours unacceptable, milord. Now if you'll excuse me. I have to get back to the hospital."

To say Lord Grantham was dumbfounded would have been an understatement. In fact he was so shocked he couldn't think of any sort of reply. Carson couldn't care less about that. He didn't even bother using the servant's entrance, but walked out of the front door. His loyalty lay first and foremost with Mrs. Hughes. It may not have been that clear to him in the past, but the threat of losing her had showed him where his priorities lay. His life was Mrs. Hughes. Not the Abbey. Not anymore.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**I can't thank all of you enough for your reviews! Enjoy the last bit of this story :)**

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><p>It had been two weeks since the accident. The wreckage of the train had almost been fully removed and plans to rebuild the damaged area were made. New tracks were leading trains around the ruins and a wooden platform served as station. Except for that life in Downton Village went on as it always had.<p>

Mrs. Hughes was still in hospital. Both Dr. Clarkson and Carson had insisted that she stayed for both doubted that she would rest properly at the Abbey. In the end, Dr. Clarkson had talked her into it, arguing that it was better if he could have a close eye on her wounds. They were healing, but her leg gave her trouble walking and with her shoulder damaged she couldn't do much with a cane. Still she looked much more herself. Carson avoided the Abbey, especially since that conversation with Lord Grantham that had on both sides run out of hand. He spent most parts of the day keeping Mrs. Hughes company. The renovations on their cottage had started, so he made sure to keep her informed. He brought the newspaper and by now knew which articles she'd like to hear him read. Although some of the literature she read wasn't his taste he was happy to read it to her. It made her smile and if that wasn't worth it he didn't know what was. Their lifes were heading back to normal. But there were two things he felt guilty about. First that he hadn't told her about his argument with Lord Grantham that might cost him his job, not to mention the fact that he had been forced to announce their engagement in a very unfitting manner. And second that he didn't find the courage in him to tell her that he loved her. Of course, he hoped she knew that he did, that his actions spoke for him; still he felt he owed it to her to say it properly. When she had been unconscious it hadn't been at all difficult to tell her, but now that she was wide awake and would react to it, he failed to do so. He found that rather frustrating. The nights he no longer spent in a chair beside her bed. He would have if she asked him too, but she had assured him there was no need. He gave up there, knowing that her next step would be to forbid him to stay. Anyway, the business with the Earl and even more so his incapability of speaking out loud what he felt kept him tossing and turning most nights.

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><p>Mrs. Hughes greeted Mrs. Patmore with a smile when she came to visit. Carson had served as messenger between the two since the cook hadn't found the time to come to the hospital herself until now.<p>

"It's good to see you're doing much better", Mrs. Patmore told her. "I've brought you some biscuits."

"Thank you, that'll do a nice change to what I'm offered here", Mrs. Hughes said gratefully.

"Sounds like the cooking is no good", Mrs. Patmore chuckled.

"Well, it might be, but I couldn't tell. I'm rather spoiled by yours."

The cook snorted, but smiled. "I shall take that as a compliment."

"How are things?", Mrs. Hughes asked, taking a biscuit.

"It's not the same without you and Mr. Carson. But you'd have liked to hear how pleased everyone was to hear of the engagement."

"Sorry?"

Mrs. Patmore raised her eyebrows in confusion, then let out an exasperated sigh. "Typical Mr. Carson", she mumbled.

"Why don't I know about this?"

The cook didn't like the hurt tone in her friend's voice and also felt guilty for having given Carson away. "It's not that he just announced it. He never would have without you. But you see, the evening after the accident only relatives were allowed to see the wounded, because, well, I suppose because all hell would have broken loose if not and there had been enough hell on that day. But Dr. Clarkson not only refused to let him see you, he also didn't bother with telling him how you were, because he wasn't family. I blame the stress that surely got to the doctor's head then. However, Mr. Carson exploded when neither Dr. Clarkson nor his lordship would listen to him and told them so he could see you. I could only check on Mr. Carson close to midnight and because Lady Mary asked me to that day."

Mrs. Hughes had listened carefully to Mrs. Patmore's report and was quite touched in the end. It was unusual for Carson and yet it fitted perfectly with the development he had gone through over the past year. "Did he do anything else?"

"Well", Mrs. Patmore began. "I don't have any details, but it seems that his lordship and Mr. Carson had a serious argument."

"Oh?"

"From what I know he thought Mr. Carson had only invented the engagement as some sort of overreaction to the situation which outraged our proper butler so immensely that he spoke against his lordship."

"And how do you know this?", Mrs. Hughes asked, enjoying the cook's gossiping.

"You know someone will overhear certain conversations and start rumours downstairs", Mrs. Patmore reminded her.

Mrs. Hughes nodded, lost in thought. "I wonder what made Mr. Carson acting so rebelliously."

Mrs. Patmore snorted. "That's quite obvious."

"Is it?"

The cook rolled her eyes dramatically. "He loves you, Mrs. Hughes. And that means he would…" Mrs. Patmore was cut short by a warning glance from the housekeeper. Turning around she spotted Carson who was making his way towards them.

"Hello, Mrs. Patmore. I didn't expect to see you here", Carson greeted her, taking his usual place by Mrs. Hughes's side beneath the window.

"I was able to sneak away. Daisy covers up for me. Where have you been?"

"I stopped by the book shop to make a few inquiries." He spotted the biscuits and looked quite distracted by them. Mrs. Hughes rolled her eyes lovingly at him and offered him one to satisfy his sweet tooth.

"Well, I ought to get back. I can't leave Daisy alone with luncheon", Mrs. Patmore excused herself and got up. "I hope to see you both back at the Abbey soon."

Carson forced himself to smile, trying to hide his doubts about any sort of real return to the big house.

Mrs. Hughes waited until her friend was gone, then she turned towards Carson. "Why didn't you tell me about the trouble you had with his lordship?"

He tensed and avoided her gaze. "What do you mean?"

"It's all right, Mr. Carson. Mrs. Patmore told me."

He dared to look her in the eyes, searching them for any sign of anger. "Are you angry with me?"

She reached for his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "No, Mr. Carson. I'm flattered that you fought your place for me."

A soppy smile spread over his face and made her blush. She had a hard time getting used to this very private, emotional side of him. The moment lingered, making Carson aware that this might be the right moment to tell her that he loved her. But he couldn't get himself to ruin this tender moment with the sound of his thundering voice. The opportunity slipped through his fingers and he knew he would regret it later, but now he was glad that things were well between them.

"Now, what sort of inquiries did you make?", Mrs. Hughes asked, curious to hear what had led him to the book shop.

* * *

><p>Carson got back to the Abbey in time for dinner. He had gotten quite used to leaving all serving duties to Thomas and only take care of the things that stood behind making the household work. It was a new habit of his to spend the hours after dinner in his pantry, taking care of all the paper work.<p>

It was already close to midnight when Lord Grantham knocked. Carson looked up in surprise and stood. "Milord", he greeted him.

"I know this must be rather unexpected", the Earl replied.

"It is", Carson agreed. "How can I help?"

"I had time to think after our last conversation, Carson. I believe an apology is long overdue."

Carson raised his eyebrows. "Shouldn't it be me who…?"

"No, Carson", Lord Grantham interrupted him. "It really should be me. You've served me the biggest part of both our lifes in a way not many others would have. I would go as far as saying that in some ways you are part of the family. I'm sorry for what I said and I can assure you I have no intention to ever say it again. It is time for me to accept that nothing is safe from change and I do hope that whatever you and Mrs. Hughes decide, we can part as friends. Anything else would be most ungrateful."

Carson struggled to keep his composure. He had always known that he was valued by his employer and enjoyed a position in this house that sometimes did go further than his title, but anyway this was unexpected. "I have no doubt we will part as, ehem, friends, though I can't make any statement on the future. Mrs. Hughes and I haven't settled anything yet."

Lord Grantham nodded understandably. "I hope you consider staying on."

"Thank you, milord. We shall consider."

"I take it Mrs. Hughes is improving?"

"She is, thank the lord."

"Please send her my well wishes and my apologies, Carson. Good night."

"Good night, milord", Carson said with a nod of his head.

* * *

><p>Carson hadn't slept that well since the accident, but with things mostly sorted he was able to put his mind at ease. There was a spring in his step when he headed for the hospital after breakfast. On his way he stopped by the book shop to get Mrs. Hughes a proper edition of <em>Dracula<em>. He didn't know exactly what she found so fascinating about it, but while he had read it to her he was surprised how much he liked the way it was written. Even he had to admit that reading from different people's diaries was interesting.

He removed his hat when he entered the hospital's hallway. But when he reached his destination his mood dropped immediately. Mrs. Hughes's bed was empty. His heart sank in his chest. Surely nothing could have happened during the night? She had been so much better. He looked around in panic. A nurse entered and found herself almost knocked over by the butler. "Where is she?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Mrs. Hughes. Where is she?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. Shall I go and look for the doctor?"

Carson didn't hear her offer. He had stormed down the hallway to Dr. Clarkson's office, but he wasn't there. In panic, Carson stumbled into the yard. He let out a quiet sob of relief when his eyes spotted Mrs. Hughes. She was sitting on a bench, two big blankets wrapped around her, a book on her lap. Her shoulder and leg were still immobilised, but a wheelchair standing next to her explained how she had gotten outside. He rushed to her, taking her by surprise when he sank on his knees before her.

"Mr. Carson, what on earth is the matter?", she asked worriedly. "Get up or you will ruin your trousers."

"I thought something had happened to you", he cried. "I didn't know where you were like on the day that blasted train almost took you from me."

She cupped his face with both her hands and reassuringly stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "I'm sorry you had to go through such fear."

"It's not your fault", he said with his voice shaking violently. "Only, I've missed so many chances to tell you something and I am terrified I'll never find the courage."

Mrs. Hughes wasn't sure what he was talking about. She motioned for him to sit down next to her. "Well, then you better tell me now", she told him.

He swallowed hard. Excuses he could make rushed through his head, but he fought the urge to use them. "It's something which I hope you know already even if I never said it." He raised his head to look at her. "I'd like to make sure that you know I did not propose to you out of pity or kindness or anything like it." He watched how she turned thoughtful. In fact the possibility had crossed her mind once or twice and she was happy to hear him say that she had been right to forget these thoughts.

"I asked you out of love", he stated. "I love you, Mrs. Hughes"

"I had doubts", she replied softly. "But I think I have known for a while."

Carson let out a long, deep breath he hadn't know he had been holding. "And do you love me?", he asked boldly, a smile tucking at his lips.

"Of course I love you, Mr. Carson!", she told him, tears filling her eyes. "I would hug you if I were able to with all this", she said, meaning the bandages she was practically covered in beneath her clothes.

He didn't respond, but kissed the corner of her mouth. "Would that also do?", he asked gently, leaning his forehead against hers.

"That does nicely", she whispered back and with a tender smile on her lips added: "Charlie."

**The End**

* * *

><p><strong>It will take a while until I post a new story, but keep on eye out for "Where you belong". :)<br>**


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